December Rose
by Madisonne
Summary: PG-13 for language. After surviving the war and working so hard, Milliardo and Treize have their dream crushed. It just isn't fair. Yaoi. Supposed to be a Christmas fic, but couldn't wait that long! Please read and review!
1. Christmas Sorrows

December Rose

Christmas Sorrows

Author: Madisonne

Part: 1/2

Warnings: Yaoi, angst, Christmas-time fic, but couldn't wait to post it! 

Disclaimer: For some reason, the people at Bandai keep on forgetting to return my calls... So, no, I don't own them yet. Operative word: YET! MWA HA HA HA HA!!! Ahem... Don't steal, or else I'll sic my demon-chibis on you. Stop laughing! They can strip a cow of its meat in one minute! Or is that piranhas? Hmmm... 

Notes: This is sad. Very sad. :-(... Tell me if you like it because it has a happy ending I'll only post if I get at least a couple of reviews! Blackmail, I know...

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" I _hate_ them!" He snarled, slamming the car door angrily behind himself.

Treize sighed heavily; while he agreed with the sentiments of his passenger, the vehemence and sheer volume the man commanded was saddening. "Now, Miri..."

He turned furiously cold blue eyes on the other. "Don't you _dare_ 'Now Miri' me! They're _bastards_!"

"Miri, dear..."

"Don't you _dare_ patronise me!" He snarled angrily.

Closing the door to the silver Spyder convertible, he slung an arm loosely around the waist of the ex-pilot. "I'm _not_ trying to patronise you; I'm trying to spare the neighbours from our personal worries." He quietly soothed, pulling him towards their two-week-old house.

Clobbering Treize with his arm, Milliardo easily slipped out of the embrace.

Treize, being the wise man he was, had anticipated the move and had hooked his fingers in Milliardo's belt-loop.

Milliardo, being the pissed-off young man he was, used leverage on Treize's arm to break his grip. "Damn you, bastard..." He growled.

The former general shook his head at the man, who stormed ahead into the house. Treize clicked the auto-lock on the car behind him and slowly made his way into the house. He had no arguments with the fact that what had happened to them sucked, but, unlike his more temperamental counter-part, he had already made his peace with the world.

Walking into the empty foyer, he carefully removed and put away his leather jacket and gloves. Hearing the cold 'clank' of metal on metal, he sighed. 'Punching bag time.' A loud 'clang' proved his theory right. 'I need to fix that loop on the chain...'

Proceeding into the kitchen, he picked up the mail the housemaid had set out for them. Flipping through it and finding little of interest, he set Milliardo's mail back down on the table. 

Another round of loud clanging made Treize jump violently. Calming his nerves, he sighed heavily. 'Poor Miri...' Both of them took the news poorly, but Milliardo was always the one to show his anger outwardly. 

Treize turned on the tap and filled the water-heater with fresh water. While the water started to boil, he opened the china cabinet and pulled out the tea set. Locating a tea bag, he placed it into the pot.

Pouring the now-boiling water into the china pot, he set it to steep and snapped open the cookie jar. He pulled out a handful of pizzelles and arranged them carefully on one of the dishes.

The preparations complete, he picked up the tray and headed off to the solarium, their winter tearoom.

* * * * * * * 

Milliardo fell against the punching bag, gasping, entirely out of breath and exhausted. Pushing back the errant strands of hair, which had slipped from his hastily arranged ponytail, he coughed slightly.

Calming himself slowly, he roughly brushed away his tears and made his way out of the room.

The stairs at the end of the hall were his point of focus; he couldn't bring himself to look at the room in which he and Treize had put so much effort. 'Damn them to all hells...'

Thumping down the stairs, he headed straight for the solarium, where he found Treize with a pot of tea ready. He smiled slightly and sat down on the couch next to the other man. 

Wordlessly, Treize handed his friend a cup of freshly poured tea.

He accepted it with a nod and another half-smile. Wrapping his hands around the china, he drew on the heat of the liquid to soothe the ache spreading through his palms. Milliardo shifted his weight so his back was resting against Treize's side. "It isn't fair."

"I know, love, I know." He pulled the younger man against him and set down his teacup. 

"We worked _so_ hard..." He sniffed.

Treize ran his fingers through the silky hair of the other. "I know."

He looked around at the Christmas decorations they had already put up. Somehow, the tree seemed less attractive, the ornaments sans sparkle. Sensing that the tea was cool enough to sip, he drank a bit, trying to forget the trials the day had brought.

"Your sister will tell us that it's all for the best, I suppose." He observed.

"Do you still want to go tomorrow?"

Treize pondered not going for a second. After all, some people might not be fooled by the simply guise he adopted after the war; allowing his hair to fall into the 'rumpled schoolboy' look didn't necessarily constitute a foolproof disguise. 

Transferring bank accounts, the two war veterans had established a very private, quiet life. Perhaps _too_ quiet for his friend's taste, but it allowed them to remain in anominity - just where they wished to be together. "Of course, if you do."

"Well, I don't _really_ have a strong urge to go visit my sister, but I suppose I ought to put in an appearance." He smiled lightly. "Besides, I have a date at my beck and call."

Treize's chuckling reverberated through them both. "Don't be such a beetle."

"I'm not a beetle!" He mock whined, holding his teacup above and behind his head so his pillow could have a sip of the hot liquid.

"Yes, you are." He replied, matter-of-factly, then drinking some of the offered tea. 

"Humph..." Pouting always worked.

"Oh, fine. You're a very _cute_ beetle, is that better?"

"Quite." He smiled at his victory.

* * * EARLIER * * * 

"Mr. Peacecraft? I can see you now." A spunky girl with a nametag reading 'Rose' called into the reception room.

Going through the same door his companion had passed through nearly ten minutes ago, the young man smiled. "I really appreciate all your help these past few months, Rose."

She smiled kindly at him and led him to her desk, one of five in a row. "Do you have the final papers?"

Milliardo pulled out a manila folder and slid it across the desk, eager to get the paper work straightened out.

"Mm-kay." She slid a finger under the seal and opened the packet. Scrutinising each page, she took out a purple pen and signed off on each sheet.

"Purple?" He questioned.

She shrugged carelessly. "It's a _happy_ colour."

He smiled.

"Now," she set her pen down on the desk. "We have to deal with the superficial stuff. Are you still undecided as to your new child's background?"

"Just a minute." He turned down to where Treize was talking to another attendant. "Do we still not want to specify, love?"

"Not if you don't." He replied.

"Wait," the woman helping Treize stood up. "You two are... Involved?"

"Well, yes, we were wondering, frankly, why you all kept on separating us for interviews and such." Milliardo admitted.

"We have strict rules on that sort of... Abnormality."

"Now Becca, don't be unkindly..."

"Shut it, Rose. This is a _serious_ matter."

Milliardo and Treize both stood up. "Does this mean..."

"You two will _never_ be able to adopt a child. What kind of organization would we be if we let an innocent child into your perverted hands?!!"

Milliardo paled and clenched his fists angrily.

In response, Treize put a calming arm over his shoulders and glared at the woman. "Then perhaps we will take our secure home to another agency."

They all knew there was no other.

"Good day." Treize pulled Milliardo towards the exit.

* * * * * * * 

"Ugh..." Treize moaned. "I always forget why I hate your sister. Then we go visit and I'm reminded of _exactly_ why I hate her."

Milliardo laughed. "I _did_ give you a choice this time."

"Humph, _last_ time you told me we were going to see my parents. Last time I trust you."

"How could you _not_ trust me? I'm such an honest person!" He turned puppy eyes on Treize.

"You're Satan, I tell you, Satan... Or at least related."

"Harsh." He threw over his shoulder at the lounging man.

Shrugging, he flopped over onto his stomach. "I only speak the truth."

"Like shit, Treize, like shit."

"Well, at least we won't have a child to teach the legacy of lies of which you speak." Treize commented, almost bitterly.

"It's better to have a liar for a child than to have none at all." Milliardo was only half-joking.

"I'm sorry."

"I know. It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault." He smiled wearily. "Maybe we should get a dog instead."

"No, Miri. No."

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Notes: This is sad. Very sad. :-(... Tell me if you like it because it has a happy ending I'll only post if I get at least a couple of reviews! Blackmail, I know...


	2. Christmas Joys

December Rose

Christmas Joys

Author: Madisonne

Part: 2 revised/2

Warnings: Yaoi, angst, Christmas-time fic, but couldn't wait to post it! 

Disclaimer: For some reason, the people at Bandai keep on forgetting to return my calls... So, no, I don't own them yet. Operative word: YET! MWA HA HA HA HA!!! Ahem... Don't steal, or else I'll sic my demon-chibis on you. Stop laughing! They can strip a cow of its meat in one minute! Or is that piranhas? Hmmm... 

Notes: A special 'thank you' to Lancynth m. erin, and Crimson Flames, who were my review goddesses/gods for the first part! Thanks a bundle! :-D!

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"There?"

"A little to the left, I think."

"Here?"

"Uhm, that looks about right."

"Hand me that hammer, would you?"

He gave the tool to the out-stretched hand.

Loud pounding cut off any attempts at further conversation.

"There, that'll hold. Give me a hand down."

"Pushy, pushy." He helped him off of the chair. 

Feet firmly on the ground, Milliardo looked up at his handy-work. The garland seemed to have been repaired successfully. 

"It _better_ hold." Treize said, teasing.

"Santa heard that." Millardo shot back.

"I don't need Santa, I've got you."

"You are corny beyond belief. Wait, did you just call me fat?!!"

"Of _course_ not, love." He said glibly and turned to go back into the house.

Making a face at his back, Milliardo scooped up a handful of snow and hurled the packed ice at the back of his former superior.

"Ow!" Treize complained as the cold, wet bundle hit him in the middle of the back. Realising what had just happened, he grew jokingly indignant. "Why, you little _beetle_..."

He tossed another gob of snow and stuck out his tongue. "I am _not_ a beetle!" 

"Really? Could've fooled me!"

Fortunately for Milliardo, Treize's missiles were easy to avoid and he ended up the drier one of the two. 

Recognising that Milliardo was _far _less effected in their faux-fight, he switched strategies.

"Treize? What are you planning? I don't like that smirk; you always have some evil scheme when..." His words were cut off as the other pounced, rolling him into the snow, instantaneously soaking him through to the skin. "No fair! No fair!" He protested, laughing all the same.

"Oh yeah, says who?" He proceeded to shove snow down the back of his companion's shirt.

"No! That's cold, darn you!" He squirmed, trying to escape the grasp of the ex-general, but to no avail. "You're going to give me a cold and I can guarantee you that _I_ won't be the one sleeping on the couch!" 

"Oh really..." Treize gave up his snow-stuffing tactic and began to relentlessly tickle the one he'd captured. "I'm thinking that _I_ have the upper hand here..."

"Until I do... This!" Milliardo clobbered him in the head with a handful of snow and, while Treize's grip loosened, he slid out from under him. Running to the door while laughing, he managed to get inside and lock the door behind himself.

Treize's look of complete disbelief when he hit the door at a run, only to find that his former captive had locked it, was enough to send the other into fits of laughter, doubling at the waist. When he managed to calm himself down, it was only enough to stand with the door's support.

"Let me in, you heathen child!" Treize shouted at the door.

"What?" Milliardo mouthed. "I can't hear you!" But he could. Perfectly. And _that _made it all the more enjoyable.

"Please?" He put on his best puppy face.

Milliardo just shrugged back at him and waved. Then he left the room.

Outside, Treize pouted. It wasn't fair. _That_ was cheating. Although, stuffing freezing white powder down his friend's shirt probably wasn't nice either. 

Deciding that the freezing man outside had probably learned his lesson, Milliardo came back into the room and let him in. 

Treize gave him an 'I'm so hurt' look and stepped through the door. "You," he spoke slowly. "Don't fight fair."

Smiling innocently, he shrugged. "I just used what I had." 

"Beetle."

Milliardo smacked him over the head. 

* * * * * * * 

"Once you're out of the shower, we should probably start dinner." Treize called into the bathroom.

"Okay..."

"Try to hurry up, too, we've only got so long."

"It's your fault I'm even here!" He jokingly snapped back.

"Why, I never!"

"Oh, so you're saying that you weren't the one who pushed me into the snow and got _dirt_ in my hair?" The shower turned off. "_And _you got my one clean jumper all wet." 

"Oh, I am so sorry." It was clear that he was teasingly unrepentant.

Milliardo stuck his head out of the bathroom door. "I am _so_ very glad that Saint Nicholaus sees everything."

"Sees _everything_, does he?" Treize asked. "Then you, my friend, are in quite a bit of trouble."

He shut the door in response. Minutes later, he was dressed and into the bedroom, his slightly soggy hair hanging down over his shirt, causing watermarks across his hairline.

"Wet?" 

"That generally happens when people shower, Treize." He smiled at him, poking him in the stomach.

"Brat." 

"I know." He smiled again, this time with a self-satisfied look.

Rolling his eyes, Treize pulled him to the door and continued to pull him through the hall and into the kitchen. "We need to start cooking now if we're going to have Christmas Eve dinner."

"Alright, alright." He mock-sighed. "The things I do..."

"Pull out the book, love." Treize's order was admonishing, but still playful.

"Fine, fine..." Milliardo mock-fumed as he went on his mission of retrieval.

* * * * * * * 

"Who the blazes would _that_ be?" Milliardo asked, startled at the ringing of a doorbell. 

"On Christmas Eve? No idea..." Treize looked up at him from his task of mutilating the cooked turkey.

"I'll get it; you're busy." He scampered out of the kitchen before Treize had a chance to tell him that he had flour all over his face and arms. Opening the door, he was startled to see a young woman with a bundle clutched at her chest.

"Mr. Peacecraft?"

"Yes?" He asked.

"It's me, Rose, from the adoption agency?"

"Oh, yes!" His brain lurched and promptly kicked him for forgetting his manners. "Please, come in."

She smiled gratefully and stepped out of the dark, damp cold. 

He shut the door behind her and motioned her into the reception room.

"Who is it, love?" Treize called from the kitchen.

"Rose, from the agency." He called back. "Please, sit down."

She took a seat on the nearest chair and began to speak as Treize showed up in the doorway, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. "I assume you two still would like to adopt a child?"

Both of the men felt the pangs of semi-forgotten wounds in their hearts, but nodded in response.

"I may have the solution." Leaning over, she deposited her bundle into Milliardo's slightly stunned arms. 

"A baby..." He sighed. "She's so beautiful."

Treize looked up from the child's enchanting face. "But how... I thought it was illegal."

Rose seemed slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, well, her mother died just yesterday and I was the only one at work. Since I still had your final forms, Mr. Peacecraft, I just signed over her custody to you."

"Milliardo."

"I'm sorry?" She looked confused.

He smiled at the baby. "My name is Milliardo; you don't have to call me by my last name."

"But what about the visits? I mean, won't someone be coming back to check up on her?" Treize asked, hoping that the child was truly _theirs_.

She grinned. "Yes, but _I_ was just 'conveniently' assigned to your area."

Milliardo looked up for the first time since receiving his precious bundle. "But won't you get into trouble if they find out?"

Nodding, she shrugged. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

He shook his head in wonder. "I don't know what to say, other than 'thank you'."

"How old is she?" Treize asked.

"She's just turning ten months. But there _is_ something you should know before you get too attached."

They both gave her a quizzical look.

"I believe she is deaf. While I was working this morning, I accidentally dropped my coffee mug and it shattered. While the other babies I'm watching over the break started to wail, she was silent, in fact, she hadn't even turned to acknowledge the noise." She gave them both a scrutinising look. "Are you sure you're ready to deal with this?"

Milliardo nodded. "All that matters is that this little baby needs our help and our love. The conditions of those are all-encompassing. We'll care for her no matter what."

"You two are good people." She smiled at them, simply stating how she felt. "I wish you luck."

Treize looked up at her. "Does this mean that she can stay with us now?"

Rose nodded. "I need to get back to the other babies, my husband can only be trusted to watch them for _so_ long before he goes into infantile-exposure shock. I trust that your house is completely baby-proof as it was when we inspected it?"

Milliardo nodded. "We've even have a bottle of milk ready in the refrigerator to be warmed. I guess neither of us could bring ourselves to empty it."

She smiled at the two of them. "You two are wonderful. I'll swing around sometime next week to make sure everything is going fine, okay?" Seeing the two nod, she continued. "Have a fantastic Christmas!"

The pure happiness in both of their eyes made up for her having to spend an entire day working out the paper work and logistics for them. 

"You too." It was Treize who spoke, his eyes telling hers that he truly meant it.

"Wait," Milliardo called as the woman headed for the door. "What's her name?"

The woman cocked her head, trying to remember. "I don't think the detectives found anything that led to her name... I left it blank at the office; you two can make one up for her, it seems appropriate." She smiled at them one last time and let herself out of the house. "Merry Christmas!"

For a moment, the two were frozen in place, looking down at their new daughter. 

Treize caught a sniffle from Milliardo and realised that he was crying. He eased down onto the couch next to the other and pulled him into a strong hug, encompassing the baby in the embrace. "Shhh..." He soothed. "Don't cry."

"She's so pretty..." Milliardo hiccupped.

"She is." He agreed, reaching to smooth white-blonde hair that curled around his fingers.

"I wonder what colour her eyes are..." He pondered.

"We should look at our list of names," Treize suggested. "We can't just keep referring to her in the third person."

He nodded in agreement. "I think it's in the solarium, by the tree."

Moving his weight slowly, so the other two wouldn't be jostled, he left the room and retrieved the paper. 

"What did we say?"

"December, Adair, Kaya, or Leila for a girl."

"Hmmm... I like December..."

Treize nodded his approval.

Thinking a bit, Milliardo smiled. "December Rose. I like that."

Treize smiled. "A perfect name for a little... _Our_ little angel."

The three of them remained cuddled together for a long time, watching each other. 

The snow falling outside billowed onto the windowsill in soft puffs, a perfect Christmas Eve picture, one to grace a perfect Christmas Eve gift. 

One thing was certain, Christmas was made for people like the three inside and the wind hummed a prayer along the breeze for eternal happiness.

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Notes: Awww, this one ended happier! I have a sequel, but will only bother posting if people like it. That means REVIEW!!! Please?


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